“I cannot believe nobody has seen her with this gentleman,” Evelyn said. “Did she never once use his name when she wrote to you, Clara?”
All eyes turned to Clara. She blinked. “She referred to him only as Mr. X. I cannot think why, except that she wished to be mysterious which was very much in her nature.”
“That is what she called him when she spoke of him to me also,” Julian confirmed.
A brief silence fell over the group until Evelyn broke it.
“How is the child? And the wet nurse—is she proving satisfactory?”
“Very much so,” Julian said. “I was grateful she was available at such short notice. Some things do appear to be meant to work out.”
“She is wonderful with David,” Clara agreed. “He has taken to her completely. And her little daughter, Molly, is very sweet.”
“Molly—is that her name?” Julian said. “I confess I haven’t yet had occasion to speak with her properly.”
“I hope her husband does not mind her being away from home for so long,” Nathaniel said. “She is staying with you, is she not?”
Beside him, Clara swallowed. “I do not think that he minds,” she said.
Something in her tone gave Julian pause. Clara had always had this way about her—of giving answers that seemed perfectly direct but were, in fact, quietly evasive.
As the carriage rumbled down Bond Street towards Mayfair, he looked at her.
“Earlier, when Nathaniel mentioned Mrs. Holt’s husband—why did you say you do not think he minds? Is there strife in their marriage?”
“Not strife,” she said. “For, in order for there to be strife, there would have to be a marriage. From what she told me, her husband—if there ever was a husband—made off. She is quite alone with the little girl.”
“Good gracious,” he said. He was quiet for a moment. “It is fortunate then that she found refuge with us. We shall have to look after her well, even after—” he stopped himself, “—even after all of this has resolved.”
She smiled at him then—a small, private smile that she didn’t seem entirely aware of.
“What is that smile for?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Only, I am glad you said that. Many a different kind of man would have said she was a loose woman for allowing herself to be placed in such a position. That she ought to give away the child or some such.”
“Never,” he said, with more conviction than he intended. “That is entirely unfathomable. Whatever her story is, it is her story. A person’s life can be turned upside down at the drop of a hat as the two of us can certainly attest.” He paused. “Whatever happened to Mrs. Holt—we shall see that she is looked after. She and the little girl both.”
Clara looked at him. He became aware, only now, that she was sitting beside him rather than across from him, as was the custom. She had sat beside him on the journey to Southampton, too, and evidently the habit had settled without either of them remarking upon it. They were close enough that their arms nearly touched.
He did not move away.
When they returned to the house, Mrs. Holt had retired to her chamber, and Mrs. Parker, the housekeeper, had taken charge of David. They heard him before they saw him—the little boy’s wails carrying clearly across the front of the estate where Mrs. Parker was attempting to push the pram along the gravel path with the expression of a woman confronting something she had not anticipated.
“I do not know what has come over him,” she said, looking genuinely aggrieved as Clara descended from the carriage and hurried over. “He was perfectly content with Mrs. Holt. The moment I took charge of him, he set up this dreadful noise.”
Clara lifted David from the pram and rocked him gently. Julian came to stand beside her. “It is quite all right,” he said to Mrs.Parker. “He simply does not know you well yet. Once he does, all will be well.”
“I should certainly hope so,” Mrs. Parker replied, pulling herself to her full height, “seeing as I shall be a rather more permanent fixture in his life than the wet nurse.” And with that, she turned and walked away, her nose held at an angle that conveyed her feelings on the matter with perfect clarity.
“I believe you have offended her,” Clara said, a smile playing about her lips as David began to quiet against her shoulder.
“I expect she will recover, in due course,” Julian replied mildly.
He looked at David, who returned his gaze with wide blue eyes, apparently having decided that the crisis was over. Then, with the sudden and devastating charm that only very small babies could produce, he broke into a broad, gummy smile.
“By Jove,” Julian said, “I daresay he does like us.”
“I think so too.” She glanced at him. “Would you like to hold him?”
